


Sky-lit Dreams

by ArchitectOfGods (orphan_account)



Category: Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Eating Disorder, and not really a good one, pretty much a rewrite of twilight
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-29
Updated: 2016-11-29
Packaged: 2018-09-03 01:19:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8690929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/ArchitectOfGods
Summary: After spending two months in hospital because her mother insisted, Isabella Swan decides to exile herself to the small town of Forks to live with her father.It's in that small town, that she meets Edward Cullen, who introduces new dangers she'd never even considered as being possible.





	

Renee is the one to drive me to the airport, the windows are rolled down, I can see the sky, a perfect cloudless blue.  
Today I'm wearing my favourite shirt, the amount of skin it leaves bare almost makes me uncomfortable, I worry people will comment on the sharp juts of my shoulders.  
But I am aware that not a single person around me cares about who I am, unless you count my mother.  
There is concern in my mother's eye, but I chose to ignore it, focus on feeling the parka that rests on my lap.  
It's my only carry-item.  
Where I am headed is a small town named Forks, it exists in a place where the sky is almost constantly filled with clouds. I could believe that no other place in America has rain as often as Forks does.  
Forks is where I chose to exile myself to, to spend days in the grey, living with my father, Charlie, who I had only ever seen every summer up until the year I turned fourteen.  
I hated Forks, and loved Phoenix for the blistering heat, and clear sky with it's blinding sun.  
My mother's voice interrupts my thoughts, her gaze stays on my face, 'Bella,' her voice is warm, 'You don't have to do this.'  
But I do, if I stayed with my mother any longer, she'd just end up unhappier for having to stay with me while Phil was elsewhere, and I'd end up back in hospital.  
I detested the thought of long months in hospital, shoving food down my throat until I thought I'd explode.  
I almost felt panic as I stared at her wide eyes, wondering how I could leave my mother, who often forgot to pay bills and struggled to keep the fridge filled.  
But she did have Phil now, he would look after her.  
'I want to go,' I lie, I'm aware of how much I've improved at lying within the past two years, my mother, who used to call me her open book, no longer bats an eye when I lie.  
I felt like I'd been making that same lie so often that perhaps I myself would believe it soon.  
Renee doesn't seem happy, but she tries to smile anyway, 'Tell Charlie I said hi,' is all she says, and I nod, 'I will.'  
She swallows, I watch her throat move.  
'I'll see you soon,' Renee sniffs, 'You can come home whenever you want-I'll be there as soon as you need me.'  
I know that isn't an option, 'It'll be great, I love you, Mom.'  
Her arms are tight around me, it feels like she doesn't want to let go, but she does, and then I am on the plane and she is gone.  
The flight to Seattle is four hours, then an hour to Port Angeles, where Charlie will pick me up, and it will take an hour to drive to Forks.  
Flying has never been a concern for me, I pass the time sleeping easily, but the car ride with Charlie concerns me.  
To my father's credit, he really does seem pleased that I will be coming to live with him, he's already registered me for High School and promised to help me find a car.  
I'm most eager about getting a car, unwilling to be driven around in a car with red and blue lights on top. Traffic would slow to a crawl with a cop around.  
I was confident that it was going to be awkward with Charlie, neither of us were big talkers, and there wasn't much we could talk about.  
Life with my mother was easy, she was out going, I didn't need to put effort towards talking, just had to listen and confirm that I was listening on occasion.  
The first thing I noticed on landing in Port Angeles was the rain, I was glad I'd already said my goodbyes to the sun.  
Charlie was waiting for me, leaned against the cruiser, something I had expected, Charlie is Police Chief Swan to the people of Forks, a job he likes.  
We exchange an awkward one armed hug after he ignores how I stumble while walking towards him.  
Charlie seems to catch and steady me without thinking, smiling at me in greeting, 'You haven't changed much, how's Renee?'  
I pause, I know I'm not allowed to call him by his name to his face, 'She's fine,' I answer, I already feel cold, and wonder if I'll ever feel warm again, 'It's good to see you, Dad.'  
He returns the sentiment after a moment of hesitation.  
I have very few bags, it takes us very few minutes to loud them into the car.  
Charlie waits until I am strapped in before speaking, 'I found a good car for you,' he notes to me, 'Really cheap.'  
Immediately I'm suspicious, 'What kind of car?'  
Charlie glances at me before looking back to the road, his hands are both firmly on the wheel, Charlie drives carefully, 'A truck actually,' he admits, 'A Chevy.'  
Already I'm bored, but rather than lapse into awkward silence, I push forward with the conversation, 'Where did you find it?'  
'Do you remember Billy Black down at La Push?' asks Charlie, I can remember La Push, a small Indian Reservation on the coat, but on the other hand, I seem to have no memory of anyone called Billy Black.  
I shake my head, 'No.'  
Charlie seems unsurprised by this, 'He used to go fishing with us during the Summer,' he doesn't seem to expect an answer, nor does he wait for one, 'He can't drive anymore due to being in a wheelchair, so he offered to sell me his truck cheap.'  
I pause to consider what to say next, 'What year is it?'  
Charlie hesitates, apparently having hoped I wouldn't ask, 'Well, Billy's done a lot of work on the engine, it's really only a few years old.'  
My stomach grumbles and I do my best to speak louder than it so Charlie does not notice, 'What year did he buy it in?'  
A sigh escapes Charlie, '1984, maybe.'  
I eye Charlie for a moment, 'Did he buy it new?'  
Charlie is deliberate in not looking at me, 'I think it was new in the early sixties, or late fifties at the earliest,' he admits.  
I move a hand to rest it on my stomach, I can feel the jut of my hip against my arm, 'Dad, I really don't know anything about cars,' I say, concerned, 'I wouldn't be able to fix it if anything went wrong, and I'd be unable to afford a mechanic . . . .' my voice trails off rather weakly.  
Charlie responds, voicing a possible nickname as he speaks, 'Really, Bells, the thing runs great,' he glances at me now, 'They don't build them like that anymore.'  
I snort at the idea of having a truck nicknamed, 'The Thing.'  
I reluctantly accept the idea of the truck, 'How cheap is cheap?' I question.  
Charlie peeks sideways at me, his expression is hopefull, 'Well, Bells, I kind of already bought it for you,' he pauses, 'As a homecoming gift.'  
Free, I mull the idea over in my mind, it was more than I had expected, or hoped.  
'I want you to be happy here,' continues Charlie when I don't speak.  
A force a smile onto my face as I respond, 'That's really nice, Dad, thank you, I appreciate it.'  
Charlie seems embarrassed, I have been too confident in my thanks, 'Well, now, you're welcome,' he murmurs.  
We move onto other topics, I hadn't expected we'd find anything to talk about, but Charlie seems slightly interested in my grades, is impressed to hear I've been doing well despite my hospital visit.  
We arrive in Forks, everything is green, and while it's beautiful, I find myself developing an inkling of hatred for the colour.  
The trees trunks are covered with moss, the ground is dense with ferns, the air itself as it filtered down through the leaves also seemed green, I vowed I wouldn't be wearing green, there was already enough of it around me.  
  



End file.
